


Cemetery

by soft_psycho



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_psycho/pseuds/soft_psycho
Summary: As Harry begins his morning walk to visit his parents he stops to pick a few flowers. What he didn't realize is that this would lead to a very interesting encounter with a total stranger.





	Cemetery

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be set in the Muggle universe where both Harry and Draco are muggles. No magic. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Harry began his usual route of his frequented morning walks. Walk down the street, left at the stop sign, straight past the rich neighborhood...Harry paused outside of _that_ house. The big black one with boarded up windows and a garden that, while still alive and currently in bloom, spilled untamed onto the sidewalk. Harry stared at it in awe, taking in the rainbow that was alive at his feet. A gust of wind blew through his wild, jet black hair. Harry brushed it out of his face, tugging his sweatshirt strings a bit tighter. He was about to continue on his walk when he stopped. Surely it couldn’t hurt...Harry quickly scanned the street and before he could stop himself he had stooped over and plucked a few small daisies that were growing on the edge of the yard. He was careful not to crush them in his hand as he straightened up and started walking again, glancing behind himself every few seconds to make sure no one was following him. As he reached the corner of the street he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Harry spun around and came face to face with a man who stood just a little taller than himself. He had jaw-length white-blonde hair that framed his face. His eyes were a stormy shade of grey that stood out against his pale skin. His whole person gave off an odd sort of sense giving Harry a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. After a second the stranger spoke.

__

__

“I apologize if I startled you but I couldn’t help but follow you, seeing as you took those from my garden,” he spoke calmly, gesturing slightly toward the flowers clutched tightly in Harry’s hand.

Harry glanced at them and quickly lowered his hand. “Oh um...I was just-”

The stranger cut him off. “No need for excuses. I don’t mind all that much but I’d just love to meet the girl that would be worth stealing flowers for.”

“Yeah um..sure,” Harry said. He felt his stomach drop a bit, the stranger’s eyes still fixated on his own.

They stared at each other for a few moments before the stranger cleared his throat. “Well let’s get going, shall we? I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

Harry nodded. _Although I don’t think she’ll be going anywhere too soon,_ he thought to himself.

The stranger and Harry walked side by side; Harry trying to avoid looking at him while the stranger talked eagerly about something or other. 

It was around 20 minutes later when Harry arrived at his destination, the stranger still going on about a new gardening technique he’d learned. 

“So, theoretically, you could use this mixture of-” He stopped when he read the sign that hung on a large gate. **Hampstead Cemetery** it read in big white letters. “Oh,” was all he said.

“It’s alright you didn’t know,” Harry said quickly.

“No. Now I feel like a complete arsehole,” He responded staring down at his feet.

“Really. It’s alright,” Harry said again. “C’mon,” He said pushing open the gate.

They wound their way through rows of gravestones before reaching two small-ish ones toward the back. The writing on them was faded and ivy had begun creeping up the sides, it’s vines embracing them tightly in neat little spirals.

Harry crouched in front of the graves and gently laid the flowers down in between them. “Hey, mum. Hey, dad. I know they probably aren’t as nice as ones from the store but I’m kinda in a bad place right now so it’s the best I could manage. I really wish you guys were here right now.” Harry felt himself beginning to tear up. “I love you,” he whispered after a minute.

The stranger crouched down next to Harry. “Are you alright? We can talk about it if you’d like. We don’t have to,” He said softly.

Harry sighed and nodded slowly and dried his face on his sleeve. “My parents...they died when I was really young. Car crash. I was forced to live with my aunt and uncle near Surrey. They...Let’s just say they weren’t very fond of me. They kept me in the broom closet.” Harry chuckled softly. “I was lucky if I got a meal a day. And my cousin, Dudley’s his name, he used me as a personal punching bag.” Harry began to get the feeling he was oversharing but the stranger just stared at him, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

Harry took a deep breath and continued. “I went to a private school, a school for kids who need ‘special attention’.” Harry put extra emphasis on those words. “I was only teased worse for it. When I turned eleven I went to a different private school, this time in Scotland. It was a far drive but I made a few friends there. They really helped out, helped me realize that people did care about me. I dunno what I would’ve done without them,” Harry admitted. “I was doing alright until a few years ago. You see, when I was thirteen my godfather got out of prison. He was going to take me in but one night, I think I was fifteen, he was walking home from a bar and he was mugged and shot. He died the next day in the hospital. They never did find out who did it. Makes me sad to think about what could’ve been if that hadn’t happened but I guess it’s best not to dwell on the past. Then, right before I was finished with my last year of school there was that mass shooting, you probably heard about it on the news. A lot of my friends died that day. Me and a few others were lucky enough to escape with our lives. After that, I turned to a dark place. I’m talking real bad. I started doing drugs, getting drunk every night. I was so angry all the time. I’ve only just recently stopped after some friends urged me to get help.” Harry paused. “I’m sorry. I’ve probably ruined your day with my depressing life. I don’t even know your name yet here I am spilling out my whole life story.” Harry said after a minute, forcing out a small laugh.

The stranger nodded. “Draco,” he said sticking out his hand.

Harry reached out with his own and shook the strange- no, Draco’s hand lightly. “Harry,” he replied. “I’m sorry it’s just that..I’ve never really told anyone this stuff and…’Harry felt himself tear up again. “And it actually feels really good to get it off my chest and...I just wanted...to say thank you for listening to me.” Harry’s voice cracked slightly at the end. At this point, he could feel a few tears slipping down his face.

“I know I haven’t known you very long, Harry but thanks for sharing. If you ever need to talk again…” Draco trailed off and Harry nodded. 

“Thank you,” he whispered wiping his cheeks with his sleeve.

“Anytime,” Draco responded as he stood up. He brushed himself off and made a move to leave. “Oh and Harry,” He said. “Feel free to stop by for tea tomorrow. Around lunchtime will do nicely I think.” Draco continued his walk back to his house, leaving Harry alone surrounded by silence. He leaned back against his mother’s grave and let the sunlight wash over him. His eyes fluttered shut as he allowed himself to relax for the first time in years.


End file.
